Native America
by Mimi011
Summary: America is late during a meeting, but when he finally does show up he brings a woman he claims to be Native America. England seems to remember her, and so does France. Canada calls her his mom. America calls her Shima. This world conference just might become a family meeting.


The world conference had been in session for fifteen minutes. Germany had given his speech about global warming and the thinning atmosphere first, which everyone was now arguing about. England wasn't joining in. He was still in his chair, glancing to the door every once in a while.

"What's wrong England? Somewhere to go? Black sheep heading off to the pasture?" Said France mockingly as he took the empty seat beside England. England huffed in annoyance, and glanced at the door again.

"Haven't you noticed?" Said England, staring at the door.

"Noticed what? You terrible hair?" France said.

"My hair is not terrible, frog! I was saying, America has not arrived yet. I wonder what's wrong with the git," replied England. France too started staring at the door.

"That is enough! I believe we have all settled our differences now, so the debate is over!" Yelled Germany, and every nation in the room quieted down. Germany picked up a new stack of papers.

"Alright, now that that is over with, you all must be curious about my recent exchange with North Korea-"

"THE HERO IS HERE!"

Everyone turned to see where the voice had come from. They all knew it came from America, of course.

Standing at the door was America wearing his usual bomber jacket and obnoxious attitude. He marched to the head of the table next to Germany, who was rubbing his temples. A headache, no doubt.

"Listen to me and my total hero voice guys! We'll be needing an extra chair at all the meetings from here on out! Could somebody get a chair?" America exclaimed, and smiled like a maniac.

England rose from his chair,"Where the bloody hell have you been?! You got here fifteen minutes late, and now you barge in and take over the show?! I think not! And what's with all this "extra chair" none sense? There isn't any more land to make a country out of, you git!"

"Haha! That's right! There is no more land to make a NEW country out of, but the chair isn't for a new country!" Said America enthusiastically.

"What do you mean by 'isn't for a new country'? Are you saying you brought a country back from the dead? That's impossible! Once a nation is officially dissolved, there's nearly no hope for the personification," said England, sitting back down and crossing his arms against his chest.

"No, England, that is not always true. My bruder Gilbert is the personification of the fallen Prussian Empire. He is still alive, even when his nation is not. It's quite a feat. Perhaps you should listen to what America has to say," explained Germany, who sat down in his stair, letting America have the spotlight.

England sighed heavily, " Alright, alright. I suppose I'll listen,"

"I'll go get a chair!" Said Sealand, who ran off in search of a chair. No one seemed to notice him leave, or that he had even spoke. Or that he was even a country.

"Okay, so over the years I've been working super hard to preserve this nation. She's almost in perfect health, yo! So I decided to bring her to a meeting, since, ya know, she is technically still a nation. She hasn't been officially dissolved, so I guess that's how she's still alive. Her peeps still need resources, so she still needs at least some input on major events that we talk about here, right?" Explained America. England sighed, again, but nodded in agreement.

" Alright, you can let her in. Just make sure she doesn't cause any trouble," said England. America cheered and ran out of the conference room.

"He's probably going to bring back a girl who is the hamburger nation, wi?" Said France to England, who chuckled.

"Bollocks, as much as I hate to say it, you're likely right," said England. France snickered.

"You got it, Shima?"

"Oh yes I'm fine Peta. I can walk on my own."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure."

America walked back in slowly, guiding a tall, tanned woman with long black hair into the room. The other nations watched silently.

The woman, looking around twenty eight or so, wore sandals and tight denim jeans. Her top was a faded red tank top that looked bleached from countless hours under the sun. Her skin too looked like it spent hours under the sun. It was smooth and warm brown, like caramel.

The woman stopped and looked around the room. Her face had a very angular shape. She pushed a stray strand of hair away from her face, showing her deep chocolate brown eyes.

Black hair went down to her back, with a couple beaded strands her and there. An eagle's feather stuck out on an angle from behind her ear.

"This is Shima, my mom. She's Native America," announced America. Shima smiled and waved to them.

"I am very glad to be here. I hope I can make friends with all of you," said Shima. Though the way she said it made it sound like she was welcoming herself back.

A couple hellos and hi in various languages came from here and there in the room. Canada suddenly stood up, and his chair clattered to the floor. Everyone looked his way, finally noticing Canada at a meeting. Canada's eyes were wide and his jaw unhinged.

"Sh-Shima?" Stuttered Canada, and Shima smiled.

"Hello Nanuq," answered Native America.

Canada quickly ran past the countries he was sitting next to and launched himself into Native America's arms.

"Mom, mom, mom . . . " said Canada, his head buried in Native America's chest. Native America smiled warmly and ran her fingers through Canada's hair. Canada stood back up and stared at her lovingly.

"Oi, England, that woman looks familiar to me . . . " said France. England turned around to reply, and found that France's face was sheet white.

"Yes, yes, she does have a familiar face, doesn't she?" Said England. "Very familiar indeed."

The two watched America and Canada rejoicing their reunion with their mother. England swore that he had seen her face before, but where? It had to be a long time ago, if the woman claims to be Native America. The seventeen hundreds, maybe? Before he found America as a small child. Right around when Jamestown was founded.

England remembered the Indian tribes that lived near Jamestown. The miners were complaining that they had become too hostile and violent for themselves to manage, and had asked for soldiers to defend them while they were working. King James, at the time, had ordered England to see to the new colonies anyways. So, on the next ship headed for Jamestown, England hitched a ride to the Americas with the soldiers. He had the top class housing quarters, too, being the highest ranked man onboard the ship.

At Jamestown, he had decided to join the soldiers on patrol in case they did encounter any savages, he could be there to try diplomatic reasoning. England highly doubted that possibility though, since the only stories heard of natives were ones of bloodshed and animal like beings that lived in the woods.

After a few patrols with no activity or even sightings of a native, an Indian did appear. The armed men accompanying England had all immediately pointed their guns at it.

"Stop! Stop! Does it even have a weapon? Lower your guard, men, let me speak to it!" England commanded. The guards hesitantly pointed the barrel of their guns to the forest floor, but continued to glare at the figure hiding in the bushes.

A pair of chocolate eyes glared at the men in uniforms. The savage was hidden well within the shrubbery. Only it's eyes were visible.

England gulped, " Cheerio, my name is . . . Arthur, yes Arthur. You wouldn't mind coming out of those bushes, now would you?"

The eyes narrowed. A high snarl sounded from the bush. The soldiers gripped their guns even tighter than before.

"Oh, no no, don't be like that. I do not want to fight you. I'm not here to hurt you," reassured England nervously. He shifted in his spot, ready to run or attack if needed.

The eyes darted to England's shuffling feet, then back up to his face. Thy stared at his green eyes, and the figure seemed to calm down.

Through the hold in the bush that the eyes were looking out of, a rough calloused hand pushed through. The hand stretched the hole in the bush, and out jumped the native. A woman, with waist length black hair with an eagle's feather in it. She wore nothing but a tight strip of leather that fit around her bosom and a deerskin loincloth. Her face was quite angular for a woman, and she displayed a stern expression on her face.

England and the soldiers stared for some time before coming back to their senses. England held out his hand for her to shake.

The woman backed away a little, just far enough to be out of reach by the hand England was holding out to her. She didn't flinch though, but just smoothly stepped away. The native woman wasn't scared by these petty Englishmen.

"What do you want?" Said the woman in an extremely heavy accent, but fluent English, none the less. England seemed taken back by her sudden statement. The Indian looked to him expectantly.

"You speak English?" Said England in wonder, but the native woman simply hugged in annoyance.

"Yes, I speak English. Say what you are here for or leave now. I will not tolerate you pale men trampling over my people's land like boars," said the woman. England and the soldiers scoffed. Not only was the savage woman fluent in English, but had a very sharp tongue. Rude, instinctive animals thought the soldiers.

England, with a manner more intimidating, said "We are here to make friends with you and your people."

The woman did not reply. Instead, she took to staring the soldiers up and down, especially their guns. Her eyes flicked back up to England.

"You pale men are strange. You say you want to make friend when you bring warriors ready for battle. You destroy our forest and homes and people. What a strange way to make friends," said the woman harshly. England grit his teeth. This woman became increasingly stubborn the more time spent with her.

"So let's make friends," said the woman. Quick as a hawk, she grabbed England's hand and shot off into the woods with him. Though he tried to stop her, tried to yell back to the soldiers, the woman was inhumanly strong and dragged him all the way to her tribe.

The rest of that day always escaped his memory. England can remember dancing around a fire, wearing a loincloth, and the savage woman leading him into her tent. Though the next day he was in his own home, with a very nasty hangover.

Now at the world conference he was sure that America's mum was indeed that woman. She was Native America.

Five years from the day England first met Native America in the 1700s, he had found America as a child and taken him for his own. All related countries are supposed to look like one another, but where America had gotten those blue eyes and darker hair, and even darker skin was a mystery to him. But if this woman was America's mother, he could see where the darker-ness of his personnel came from.

So America's father, if he had one, was a white man. England steadily pales as the gears in his head clicked in place. He would have had to have done it with America's mum five years before England himself had found America. Right around the time he had first seen Native America . . .

England broke into a cold sweat. He was America's father.

Back in reality, Native America ruffled Canada's hair one last time, and looked around the room of nations. Her eyes met England fast. Native America smiled, and came to him. She noticed how white England looked, whiter than a white man should, she thought.

"Hello Arthur. It seems to be that you remember me, hm?" Said Native America. England passed out.

Sorry if this story sounds like it's been done by a two year old. Well, that's because it's been done on a two year old IPod. So technically it has been done ON a two year old. I always liked this concept. :) Shima means mother (as a name, not the actual word) Nanqu is the name meaning polar near, and Peta means gold eagle. I'll do France's story next chappy if you want it.


End file.
